


S'mores

by Owlet (shinetheway)



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: M/M, None - Freeform, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 03:43:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/793612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinetheway/pseuds/Owlet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim, Blair, marshmallows, and lots of experimenting.<br/>This story is a sequel to Creamsicle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	S'mores

## S'mores

by Owlet

Author's homepage: <http://squidge.org/~theforest/senfic.html>

Disclaimers: Not mine, never were, not being paid, please don't sure, they made me do it, honest! I had no choice! <grin>

Notes: Um? Kinky, I guess. But hey, as Francesca so beautifully put it, Jim's getting in touch with his kinks! So this story is dedicated to her, and to her wonderful story Nature's Training for putting the idea so firmly into my head that it wouldn't leave me alone. Oh, the humanity! <grin> Also dedicated to Melrae, who gave me the title for the series--thanks, Mel!! Hope you like it! 

Summary: Jim, Blair, marshmallows, and lots of experimenting. If there's a plot in here, I couldn't find one, and I really looked, too! 

Warnings: Plotless NC-17 fun, just to celebrate being home :) Minors beware! 

* * *

S'mores  
by Owlet 

Marshmallows. Graham crackers. The heady, familiar scents of chocolate and woodsmoke, a fire sending sparks flying out to briefly illuminate the velvet-like darkness of a forest far from home. Shadows dancing in time to the shifting of the wood in the fire. And Jim. 

Blair leaned back against hs backpack, watching Jim's face as the detective concentrated on the delicate task of achieving an evenly-browned marshmallow. _Yeah,_ he thought, _this is good._ He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so stress-free--and, for once, Jim looked like he was having a good time, too. _Just me, him, and enough marshmallows to last us the whole weekend, with nowhere to be and nothing to do except be right here, together, making s'mores. Perfect._ He closed his eyes in lazy contentment, basking in the warmth of the fire. 

A chuckle from across the fire and a soft _plop_ as something landed in his lap broke his reverie. He opened his eyes to see his lover holdling up the almost-full bag of marshmallows meaningfully and a single puffy marshmallow in his lap. He gave Jim a tolerant look and picked up the marshmallow, threading it onto his stick and leaning forward to thrust it into the heart of the fire. 

Thirty seconds later Jim gave Blair an aghast look as he withdrew his flaming, carbonized marshmallow and began assembling his s'more. Blair caught the tail end of it and hid a grin. "What?" he asked innocently, biting into the gooey mess with relish and licking at the cracker crumbs that stuck to his sticky lips. 

"Sandburg, how can you eat that stuff?!" Jim gave him another disbelieving look as he withdrew his own perfectly-toasted marshmallow and made his own s'more, eating it far more neatly than his guide. 

Blair grinned openly then, stretching around to grab the bag of marshmallows away from Jim and jam another one onto his stick. "You should try it, Jim, it's the only way to really eat s'mores. Nice and crispy." 

Jim snorted. "Keep your kinks to yourself, Chief," he advised dryly, snatching the bag back and pulling out another marshmallow for his own stick. Blair waited until it was poised above the fire, then swiped at it with his laden stick, pushing it deep into the fire. 

"Sandburg!" With a glare, Jim rescued his marshmallow from danger and examined it anxiously, looking for damage. Blair gave him his most innocent look and waited patiently for his quarry to come back in range. 

"Sorry, big guy, I guess it slipped." Jim gave him a blatently suspicious look, and gingerly lowered the stick again. Blair waited, then struck--and this time he was able to pin Jim's marshmallow in the fire long enough for it to ignite. _Bingo!_ he thought gleefully as it went up with a _whumph._

"Dammit, Sandburg!" Jim yelled. "You're going to pay for that one!" Blair snickered helplessly, and Jim's eyes narrowed, then crinkled as he grinned evilly. "So, you want to play games? Okay, Mr. Marshmallow, play this!" And he lashed out with his stick in his best swordfighting manner, trying to smear Blair with the cooling, gooey marshmallow. Blair yelped and managed to deflect the blow with his own stick, and then the two of them were on their feet, laughing, each trying to 'score' on the other with their marshmallows. 

Then Jim went for the kill--and the battered, sticky remnant of Jim's poor, abused marshmallow landed with a _sclup_ in Blair's hair. 

Blair stopped in his tracks. 

"Oh man. Oh man." He was trying to be mad, was actually so furious and pumped-up and hyper and shocked that he was almost laughing, staring at Jim incredulously, frozen in place. "Oh man. I do _not_ believe you did that..." Very slowly he raised a hand, feeling his curls until his questing fingers discovered the lump of goo stuck to his hair. Still paralyzed, he scraped it out and looked at it disbelievingly, then back to his smugly grinning partner. 

Then he threw it at him, and doubled over in laughter as it stuck to Jim's face and stayed there for a few hilarious seconds before falling onto the ground. 

Jim narrowed his eyes at the sight of his lover helpless with laughter, and growled softly. Then Blair found himself being well and truly pounced, caught up in Jim's strong arms, those incongrously elegant, long-fingered hands going to strip him peremptorily out of his t-shirt and jeans. Blair moaned as he felt a warm mouth and hot, deft tongue start to lick and lip at the marshmallow smears, cleaning him off. 

"Oh God..." Jim began to lick his face, following the path of the sticky sweetness. His eyes were closed, all his concentration centered on finding more marshmallow to taste, more sensation to experience. He traced patterns across Blair's cheekbone, up to his forehead, nibbling at his hairline before moving up to chew at the sticky strands of his hair. 

Blair waited, pliant under his hands, trembling slightly. Jim was so obviously enjoying this, enjoying _him_ , savoring the tastes and textures and sensations. He groaned, once, as Jim nipped at his hair, tugging slightly to extract as much as he could. Blair shivered, shivered harder as Jim licked his scalp, and moaned harshly as Jim fastened his teeth into the vulnerable skin hidden beneath his hair, imprinting him where no other lover had. 

A thought occurred to him, and he shuddered underneath Jim's bulk. _Do I want that?_ he wondered dimly. And then, _does he? Buti I guess you never know until you try..._ He pushed up at Jim's body with hands and hips and chest, pressing his face into the warm, soft skin at Jim's throat, suckling and teasing the sensitive spot at his collarbone, under his ear, calling him back from the mini-zone he had fallen into. 

"Jim. Jim, come back. Listen to me, Jim, listen to my voice..." Jim stirred and raised his head, eyes dazed and distracted. Blair gathered up his courage and asked the question that had turned him on so hard he could feel each individual heartbeat as a tormented throb against his jeans, almost smell the musk rising from his own skin. 

"Do you want to come in my hair?" 

Jim jerked, and for a moment Blair was afraid that he'd blown it--then Jim groaned and buried his face in Blair's bare shoulder, shuddering. A moment of stillness, then Blair felt the slightest movment against his shoulder. Up. Down. And the slick, hard press of teeth, marking him, claiming him--and somehow, in some strange way, asking him. 

So he answered, not with words but with his body, sliding down Jim's solid, muscular form to kneel in front of him, slowly unzipping his jeans while Jim shuddered silently, gasped once, his hands clenched spasmodically in Blair's hair and kneading his scalp. 

Blair nuzzled the stiff cock in front of him, the head a deep reddish color and leaking droplets of musky fluid. Blair lapped them up and teased the slit with his tongue, toying with the head. He began to rub it across his face, returning it after each pass to his mouth to lick the tang of his own sweat from the sensitive skin, feeling Jim's arousal grow in the pulse of his cock against his tongue, in the tight grip into his hair. 

He shook his head, gently but insistently, and reluctantly Jim released his grip. Then he carefully took Jim's cock in both hands, hearing Jim's groan as he fought to keep from coming, and bent his head so that his hair fell across the straining shaft. Jim went absolutely still, as Blair lovingly caressed every inch of the hard cock with the silky strands. 

Then, with a harsh growl, Jim took control, hands going to Blair's head to hold it still, one hand holding him in position while the other gathered Blair's long hair up and wrapped it around his cock. He thrust into the silky-rough sensation, and Blair quivered as he felt Jim's warmth rub along his scalp. The shivers raced through him, each one harder and harder, as he felt Jim's cock swelling against the sensitive skin of his scalp, heard Jim panting, sobbing for breath, felt his own cock swelling and throbbing... _Oh Jesus_...and all of this was from Jim's cock in his hair, and the trust between them was almost as sweet as the sex, and he was coming, he was coming... 

And warmth flooded his scalp at the same time as warmth flooded his groin, and Jim whimpered softly and collapsed to his knees, facing Blair with a vaguly shell-shocked, unbelievably sated, sweetly adoring look on his face, and Blair smiled and reached out and the two of them tumbled to the ground together, wrapped in each others arms. And juat as he started to drift off to sleep, something occurred to Blair, and he nudged Jim with his chin. 

"Jim...Jim, man..." 

"Wha?" Jim sounded almost asleep already. 

"Jim, I forgot the shampoo at the loft. Jim?" 

* * *

End S'mores.

 


End file.
